Writer's Block
by MissSnarkling
Summary: "Okay brain, any ideas?" he asked aloud, hoping no one would hear him talking to himself. Suddenly, a seemingly innocent idea popped up in his mind. Okay, actually it wasn't innocent at all. And Ponyboy felt the blood rush to his face, even though he was alone. He immediately threw the idea in his mental waste basket. Fine, he gave up. You win, brain.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This really sucks. I'm serious. Uh, I don't know what possessed me to write this, but it went a lot better in my head. Might make it a two-shot, but eh, I don't know.**

Ponyboy tapped his pencil against the notebook in front of him repeatedly. He'd had this damn writer's block for about a month now, and it was slowly killing him inside. When was the last time he'd written anything decent? He couldn't say, he just knew it was far too long ago. He had exhausted all possible story ideas, and the frustration made him want to hold someone's head underwater until the bubbles stopped resurfacing. He wasn't even real picky about who it was. Even Johnny was getting on his nerves lately. Writing seemed to be the only thing that kept pony sane.

Pony ripped the current page out, which was mostly covered in eraser bits and doodles, and crumpled it up, throwing it into the nearby wastebasket. He started drumming his finger tips on the desk, trying to focus his mind on the task he wished he was able to complete, not only for his sake, but everyone else's as well. Two-Bit said if Ponyboy snapped at him one more time for no reason, he's beat his head in. He knew he could be annoying when he was annoyed, but he couldn't really help it, either.

Ponyboy felt himself tense up in frustration, so he began counting backwards from one hundred. He had to do it twice, reaching 76 on the second try before he had finally calmed down.

"Okay brain, any ideas?" he asked aloud, hoping no one would hear him talking to himself. Suddenly, a seemingly innocent idea popped up in his mind. Okay, actually it wasn't innocent at all. And Ponyboy felt the blood rush to his face, even though he was alone. "What the hell, brain?" he whispered, immediately throwing the idea in his mental waste basket. Ponyboy went back to brainstorming, but the idea kept coming back to him.

_Fine._ he gave up. _You win, brain. I'll just throw it out when it's finished, and no one will be the wiser._

Ponyboy began writing slowly, visualizing a romantic picnic, a girl and a guy watching the sunset. He felt his heart speed up as he wrote on, and slowly he felt a blush cross his face that he knew wouldn't be going away anytime soon. Before he knew it, he'd written a seven page long erotica, and a very _detailed_ one at that.

_Oh my God _he thought as he read it over. _This is… actually my best writing yet._ Ponyboy tapped the papers together along his desk, straightening them out and putting a paper clip on them. He decided that he'd keep the story in his desk drawer, no one ever went through his desk.

"Ponyboy?" Darry called from somewhere in the house. Ponyboy had a mini heart attack, but calmed down quickly.

"Coming!" he responded, closing the desk drawer and heading towards whatever room the eldest brother was in.

* * *

Soda walked into his shared bedroom and immediately began tearing it apart. "Where." he threw his bed sheets on the floor and pushed his pillows off the bed. "Is." Soda proceeded to move to the closet, moving clothes around. "My damn…" Soda looked at Ponyboy's writing desk hesitantly. He doubted his hat was in it's confines, but he was desperate right now. H walked over and opened one of the three drawers. There were five books, two bookmarks, a sketch book, pencil sharpener, and old pens that Soda didn't think worked. He opened the second one and saw two notebooks, a ticket stub, and several pieces of paper with a paperclip holding them together. Sodapop was about to move on when a certain six letter word caught his eye.

Soda stood up straight, holding the offending 'booklet' in front of himself as he began skimming it.

"…running his hand up the length of her leg, softly brushing against her thigh before stopping at her va- What the FUCK?" Soda squealed in shock. He looked to the top, praying he wouldn't see Pony's name. Unfortunately, the header read: by Ponyboy M. Curtis.

"Soda, I found your hat!" Steve called from the living room. Soda, completely forgetting what he just read, dropped the paper on the desk and zoomed outside his room.

* * *

Darry yawned as he finished doing the state's paper work. Every month he had to put up with the stupid file work. He knew why, but it still seemed pointless, since it was the same as just having the people come down once a month, which they still did anyways. He folded the papers back up and put them in the addressed envelope before he realized he was out of stamps. "Great." he mumbled. Darry stood up from his seat at the kitchen table and started looking for a stamp box. Remembering that Ponyboy had one, Darry started towards his room.

Darry hesitated before entering the bedroom, knowing he really should ask first before entering the room, since he made Soda and Pony take the same courtesy. But Ponyboy was at the movies, and Soda was at work. _Besides, _Darry thought, _I'm just getting some stamps. _

Darry rested his hand on the doorknob, still having second thoughts about entering the room. He swallowed them though and took a deep breath as though it would be his last, and opened the door to step into the room. Darry felt his mouth drop open at the sight of what could only be described as a disaster area. Hadn't he told them to clean up that room yesterday? He stepped over the blanket lying haphazardly in the middle of the room and nearly tripped over a suspicious looking box that came from under Soda's half of the bed. Somehow, he managed to reach his youngest brother's desk unharmed. He began shuffling around until he found the stamps, but something else caught his eye as well.

_Ponyboy never leaves his stories out in the open._

And it was true, Ponyboy knew he was an unbelievably amazing writer, but he vehemently refused to let anyone read his stories. For what reason, Darry couldn't be certain. However, he decided that since he was already trespassing, he might as well feel guilty too. He tucked the stamp box under his arm and picked up the paper stack. He began reading as he exited the room, shutting the door carefully behind himself. Sitting down in his arm chair and setting the stamp box on the coffee table in front of himself, he didn't take his eyes of for a single minute.

_I wish he'd let us read these, they're amazing. _Darry thought as he sank into the armchair. He continued reading slowly, feeling less and less guilty by the minute, until he realized exactly what was going on in the story.

"No, he shouldn't put his hand there." Darry whispered to himself. "They're like, what? 14?" Darry's forehead crinkled in intense thought as he went on reading the story. "No, no she does not like that, stop it." Darry muttered, feeling upset. "Stop encouraging him, lady!"

Darry threw the papers down in disgust. How could Ponyboy write this? And so damn detailed at that! Did Pony have… experience? Darry felt himself involuntarily gag, and he quickly collected the papers and paper clipped them once more, stopping into the kitchen with them and throwing them onto the kitchen table. "I'm going to take a walk." Darry announced to no one in particular.

As Darry was rushing past, Two-Bit and Steve entered the house, Steve still in his DX uniform. "Where's the fire?" Two-Bit wondered out loud as Darry slammed the door behind himself. Steve shrugged and the two quickly made their way into the kitchen to raid the fridge. Two-Bit pushed ahead, so Steve had to stand back while Two-Bit dug around for a cold beer and any left over chocolate cake. Steve stood against the doorway, eyes falling on the table. He scanned it for anything of interest, but saw nothing. There was some report or something, but Steve had no interest in it. Two-Bit made a noise of happiness from the fridge, and Steve looked up out of habit, but then turned back to the table, rolling his eyes.

Steve picked up the report just to have something to do and began reading it. _What report starts off at a picnic? _Steve wondered as he continued to skim the paper. Slowly, his eyes got wider, and wider, and wider, until he was sure they'd pop right out of his head. "Two-Bit, come read this!" Steve laughed, stumbling over to the older male.

"Ugh, I hate reading." Two-Bit mumbled.

"Yeah yeah, failed English two years in a row, yeah I know, but seriously man, read this." Steve said shoving the papers in front of Two-Bit's face. He pouted at being forced to indulge in mental stimulation, but went ahead and read the part Steve was pointing to.

"What's the big deal? My mom reads books like these all the time." Two-Bit said, shrugging it off. He closed the refrigerator door with his foot and walked past Steve to sit in the living room. Steve spun around and followed the man quickly, 'report' still grasped in between his greasy fingers.

"Look who wrote it." Steve said, running his index finger underneath the author's name. Two-Bit glanced over, uninterested, before busting into hysterics along with Steve. He grabbed the papers away from Steve and started reading parts out loud.

"She breathed out shakily as he kissed along her neck-"

"I can't believe the kid wrote this!" Steve exclaimed listening to two-Bit have a heyday.

"I think what's scarier is that it's pretty damn accurate."

The two looked at each other, worry encasing their features. However, their serious faces were soon replaced by their I'm-going-to-piss-my-pants-this-is-too-damn-funny faces.

* * *

Johnny stepped back from the video game machine he'd just finished playing and smirked as he put in his 'gaming' name for the top high score. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked away, staring intently at the ground in front of himself. Suddenly a pair of feet materialized in front of Johnny, so he moved to walk around the magical pair of feet. However, the feet had other plans, because they stepped in front of Johnny again. Johnny frowned and decided to to follow the feet up until he found a very familiar face.

"Hey Dally!" Johnny said, smiling softly. Dallas took a drag off of his cigarette, ignoring the arcade owner telling him that smoking was not allowed inside.

"C'mon." Dallas said, turning quickly to exit the arcade. Johnny followed quickly as well, not wanting to lose Dally in the crowd. Upon making it outside, Johnny decided to ask Dally where they were going.

"The Curtis house, where else?" Dallas responded easily. Johnny nodded understandingly. Yeah of course, where else would Dallas take Johnny? Johnny could be so ridiculous sometimes.

The two walked at a reasonable pace to the more rundown part of town, stopping only to talk to Tim Shepard, who was looking for his little brother.

When they reached the house, they could hear someone laughing from the inside. Actually, as they reached the front steps, it sounded like two people. Dallas opened the door and stared at the two greasers rolling around on the floor.

"What the fuck are you two idiots doing?" Dallas asked, allowing Johnny to pass by as he shut the door.

"D- Da-, ha ha, Dallas, you got- oh, my spleen!" Two-Bit cackled from the ground. Steve, who was wiping the tears from his eyes, held out the paper clipped parchment for Dallas to examine.

"What the hell is this? One of Pony's… the fuck?" Dallas read the offending sentence once more, before letting out a few sniggers.

"What is it, Dal?" Johnny asked. Dallas looked at Johnny as though he'd forgotten he was there. It was very likely he had.

"Johnny man, check this out." he said, handing the stack to the younger male. Johnny held it cautiously, not sure if he wanted to invade his best friend's privacy the way the other's had. But it was funny, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad. His eyes followed the graphite writing all across the pages, and the more he read, the more scarlet his face turned.

Suddenly, Darry entered the house and genuine fear erupted in Johnny. But Darry didn't look angry.

"All right, what's got you all laughing?" he asked, shoving Two-Bit out of his arm chair so he could sit down.

"Ponyboy, man, he is quite the writer." Dallas answered, being the calmest of the group at the time. Darry made a face of confusion. Then it dawned on him. He stood up and snatched the papers away from Johnny and walked into the kitchen. He stood over the trash can, ripping and crumpling each of the seven pages.

"What, why would you do that?" Steve asked. Darry glared at the male.

"This never happened, and we never read it, because it never existed. End of story." Darry said simply. He reentered the living room and sat down in the arm chair, watching TV quietly.

**Author's Note (2.0): Ah, Two-Bit, so does my Mamma. Not really. My aunt though... yeah, okay. Review please! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: You guys are crazy, thinking this is any good. Well, anyhow. You wanted a part two, so I made one. It's shorter, much, much shorter, and not as humorous. But here it is. Reviews mean so much to me, so if you would... ?**

Ponyboy walked home slowly, enjoying the alone time he had to think. He couldn't erase the feeling of guilt he had from writing that story. It may have been really good writing, but the embarrassment if anyone ever read it would kill him. He decided that it just wasn't worth it, and so he would throw it away as soon as he got home.

Seeing several vehicles in front of his house, Ponyboy felt nervousness wash over him. He tried to brush it off, but it wouldn't go away. He stepped through the front door, to see the whole gang sitting there, as if patiently waiting in the living room for him. He scanned every one of them, but they all seemed preoccupied with the TV, except for Steve, who broke into a fit of laughter when Ponyboy walked in. The youngest greaser felt his face grow red, and then redder when he noticed that no one would understand why he was suddenly blushing.

"Where's Soda?" Ponyboy asked casually, slowly retreating into his bedroom, noticing that one of his two older brothers weren't present. His question was met with giggles from Steve, a slap from Two-Bit, and a chorus of I-don't-know's.

Ponyboy made it into his bedroom successfully, closing the door quickly, and felt his eyes bulge at the mess. He then laughed and mumbled about Soda being so absentminded as he listened to Steve howl with laughter, soon joined by Two-Bit and Dallas. Ponyboy looked back at the door questioningly, but shrugged and walked over to his desk, feeling his heart race just at the thought of the papers. He opened the drawer… to see it was gone.

"No." Ponyboy said in disbelief. He suddenly wondered if maybe he was looking in the wrong drawer. He checked the other two, and double checked and triple checked, and _then…_

_Then _he panicked. If the room hadn't already been destroyed, he would have obliterated it. He looked everywhere, including in the highly suspicious box that had came from underneath Soda's side of the bed. (He immediately wished he hadn't, and felt like he might need some brain bleach.)

_Where is it, where is it, where is it?_

Ponyboy stopped suddenly. He needed to calm down. Very calmly he began putting everything back in place, cleaning his room, and otherwise suppressing the urge to freak out. Okay, so it wasn't in his drawer. Either he was wrong about where he left it, or it had been moved by Darry and or Soda. Ponyboy took slow, steadying breaths. He prayed it was Soda, and he assumed that would be the appropriate guess if that box left any clues. He heard the front door open and close, and waited impatiently. Soda entered, tossing his hat on the ground and kicking off his shoes.

"Hey pony." Soda said, flopping on the bed and turning onto his side so he could face his baby brother.

"Soda…" Ponyboy froze. How was he supposed to go about this? Luckily for him, Sodapop was a step ahead.

"Ponyboy… I didn't mean to invade your privacy or nothing' but… I found one of your stories… and I read it… and I got a couple of questions." Soda said softly. Ponyboy felt his face grow crimson, but he nodded for Soda to go on. The quicker they finished this, the quicker he'd find the damn papers.

"Are… are you sexually active?"

_Oh God, why?_

Ponyboy wasn't sure what to say. He didn't have anything to gain or lose in this situation, so why lie? Then again, why should he tell the truth either? "No." He forced out, deciding that it was Soda, and he didn't need to know everything just yet.

Sodapop, nodded, the color returning to his face a bit. Pony hadn't even quite noticed it had gone. "Oh, okay… uh…"

"Look, Soda, I'd love to continue this conversation but… where is it?" Ponyboy said quickly, glancing around.

"Where's what, Pone?" the blonde greaser asked, tilting his head in confusion. Ponyboy glared at Sodapop momentarily, not quite understanding how he could be so absentminded sometimes.

"Where." Ponyboy blushed, looking down, trying to avoid his brother's large brown eyes. "Where's the story?"

Sodapop looked at the wall for a minute, thinking intensely about where he set the paper. "Oh yeah!" he said, smiling slightly, "I put it on top of your desk."

Ponyboy dropped his face into his palm in defeat, not needing to look at his desk to know that it wasn't there. Sodapop blinked at his baby brother before putting two and two together. "Don't worry Ponyboy, maybe Darry didn't read it. Maybe Steve or Two-Bit did!"

Ponyboy lifted his head up to give his brother another glare and his new why-on-God's-green-Earth-would-you-think-that-would-be-any-better? face.

To this, Sodapop just smiled and patted his brother affectionately on the shoulder.

The bedroom door creaked open and the two brothers looked over to see aforementioned older greasers tiptoeing in.

"Ponyboy, man, Darry's been watching us like hawks makin' sure we don't say nothing to you." Steve snickered as he came and flopped on the bed next to Sodapop.

"About what?" Soda asked curiously. Ponyboy sighed, shaking his head.

"Can you write more, Pony? You can like, sell that stuff? It's legit, my mum buys books like these all the time! We can split the profits of course…" Two-Bit offered. Ponyboy scoffed at the man, to which he just held up his hands defensively. "Or, you could just write more for Steve and me to read. It's great."

"No!" Ponyboy nearly shouted at the sheer ridiculousness of the request.

"C'mon, kid, you're always wanting everyone to read more, ain't you?" Steve countered. Ponyboy started to argue, but besides simply refusing, what else could he use in his defense?

"Soda~" Ponyboy whined, trying to get someone on his side.

"Sodapop, you agree with us, right?" Two-Bit coaxed in a strangely high pitched voice.

Sodapop didn't know what he should say. He thought the story was awful, but then again, he might have only thought it because Ponyboy wrote it. Sodapop did need to face the facts that Pony was growing up. And now Two-Bit and Steve would read! And it could help Steve and Ponyboy's relationship…

The more Sodapop thought about it, the less he had any doubts.

"Honestly Pone, I don't see what could go wrong long as Darry don't find out…"

With that, Steve and Two-Bit exchanged a triumphant high five and Sodapop smiled, feeling accomplished. The three older men left the teen to own devices, his mouth gaping open as he stared after them in utter shock.

"Well… at least it will help me get over my writer's block…" he said quietly as he walked over to his desk.


End file.
